I speak up, “My favorite is the bonfire, with the lanterns being a close second. And don’t worry, we’ll have plenty to keep everyone busy. Right, babe?” I include Ever in my comment, hoping to convey to her that I’m good.
She nods enthusiastically as she sips her wine. “Totally,” she says as she sets her glass down and refills it.
My girl doesn’t usually drink this much, so her refills are pinging my radar. Self-medicating her nerves maybe? But why? Noah and Lilly being the reason doesn’t track. Seth? They barely interact because they don’t even really know each other. Right? Ever takes a sip of her newly refilled wine and leans back into the cushions, curling her legs under her. Lilly mimics her and turns her body toward her, resting hercheek on Ever’s shoulder. Ever leans her head on top of Lilly’s, a buzzy, relaxed smile on her face. Maybe she’s just enjoying herself and all of us being together. Maybe I’m projecting my swirling thoughts of the past onto her. I take some silent deep breaths and tell myself to relax.
Chapter 5
Everly
Taya takes the freshly poured cup of coffee I pass to her over the center island bar of the kitchen. “I’m serious. I really appreciate this. You have no idea how grateful I am.”
“No, Taya, it’s fine. We’re happy to have you.” I’m surprised at how much I mean it. “And I get it. I’d be creeped out, too. Especially after the psycho surfer encounter. I mean, that guy’s . . . intense.” I shake my head with a low laugh and reach for my own steaming mug. Taya and I drinking coffee together at the kitchen bar alone should feel awkward, but what’s weird is how it isn’t. Julian is meeting with Pete at Brew to finalize a few things for the Lantern and Lights bonfire.
Taya laughs, too, but doesn’t elaborate on the guy she called Brody. “I thought it’d be awkward. I almost didn’t ask, but it’s been amazing. Relaxing.” She sips her mug with one foot propped up on her barstool, the other dangling above the floor. “No wonder you’re in love with this place. Both of you. I would be, too.” She laughs, almost to herself. “Maybe I already am.”
“Do you hate South Point like Julian does?” The more I learn about Taya, the more I like her. She’s just real and raw—like she doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks. I envy that.
“I mean, there are things I do love. My horses, the open space to ride them. But most of my memories growing up there are tainted with the absolute shit show of my family. Jay and I bonded on that from the jump. Is it weird to say that to you?”
“What? No. At first, I wasn’t sure how this would all work. Not gonna lie. But it’s all good, Taya. I like that you’re comfortable enough around me to just be your true self. Like calling him Jay. That’s who he is to you. Seriously, you’re good. We’re good.”
“I can see why he loves you so much. You’re pretty fucking chill. I’m not sure I would be in your shoes.” Her lips form a half smile, and she shakes her head a little as she stares into her coffee.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m human. This whole thing is taking some psychology level coping because, let’s be honest, it’s bizarre.”
“Understatement,” she interjects.
“Right? We’ve all had to make our mental adjustments, especially you two.”
“Again, understatement. I have to keep reminding myself that Jay isn’t the asshole who abandoned me and took a payoff from my dad. I hated him for a long time after I left. Angry fucked a lot of guys because of it, too.”
When my eyebrows jump up onto my forehead, she holds one hand up and waves it. “I’m not blaming him. Really! Just saying, I hated him for what I thought he did. It takes me a minute to remember he thought I was dead. God, that still feels weird to say.”
“I can’t imagine. I know it’s fucked with his head, too. Still does I think.” I go quiet, unable to keep the pensive mood from taking over. The ghost of Taya, though not a ghost anymore, is more prevalent now than when she was “dead.” She’s perceptive and picks up on my change in demeanor.
“I can go, Ever. If it’s too weird.”
I track that she calls me Ever. Julian slips so often now and calls me Ever in front of everyone. Sometimes he corrects himself. Other times he doesn’t realize he used the term of endearment instead of my full name. Like it’s just my name now. Taya seems to think it is, too. She’s the first besides him to call me that. I don’t mind it though and even love that it’s becoming just my name.
“No. Stop. Not after the weird visitor Mitch had yesterday. I don’t want you by yourself in that big house, the sprawling property, alone. Julian is even more adamant than I am. Really. We want you here. And I’m glad you told us about it. That’s especially weird out here in this area, right? I mean, you all grew up not even locking your doors.”
“That must sound crazy to you, growing up in Oak Valley.”
I nod, agreeing with her. Oak Valley may feel small, but it’s a city with crime and all the things that go along with it. We lock our doors and don’t leave keys in our cars there.
“Again, thank you. Mitch said he’s going to stay at the house, just to make sure he doesn’t come back and that no one else comes around that doesn’t belong.” She twirls her mug on the coaster as she talks, so I know the topic is triggering her.
“Did he say what the guy wanted?” I trace my finger around the top of my now-empty mug.
“Nope. ‘I need to talk to the girl that lives here. The kid of the man that died, Rusty. I’m looking for someone that used to work here.’ He said the guy looked strung out. Maybe he’s some ranch hand my dad hired. I don’t know. Mitch has been with my dad for three years, so if there were another hand in the last three years, Mitch would’ve known them. He said there was no one else. Just him since I left for school.”
“It has nothing to do with stalker surfers, right?” I look up to gauge her reaction. It feels like it might be borderline intrusive, but I can’t help that images of that encounter live rent-free in my head. That guy was unhinged, hostile and scary.
Taya laughs, a genuine laugh. “No way. That guy couldn’t find his way off the beach long enough to track down my childhood home—even if he knew my full name.”
I file her admission away. She hooked up with this guy and he doesn’t know her last name. Her comment aboutangry fuckingguys floats into the forefront of my brain to join the image.
“Whoever he was, Mitch just told him I didn’t live there anymore. That he managed the place now. Asked for the guy’s name and number when he became insistent and wouldn’t leave. Then he got weirdly secretive and left.”
